A Week of June: Saturday

"In addition, I now have more information to work with. To hide your nipples from people would be a true crime. Like mine, the areolas are perfectly round, the nipples themselves deep red and extending nicely off of the surface of the tit around them." June pulled lightly at her right nipple through her shirt, making it stand out proudly. The light blue sheer material made the turgid nipple appear luridly purple, accenting its arousal. Julianne was blushing an even deeper shade of red than she had when she first came through the curtain. The frank appraisal was simultaneously humiliating and exalting her. Two other shoppers, one a well-to-do lady around my age, the other a pretty little thing, probably a college girl, had stopped to listen. The first nodded in agreement with June's statements, while the second gazed in rapt admiration.

"Your stomach has a slightly rounded aspect to it," June continued, dispassionately, ticking points off on her finger. "This sort of look is highly valued today. It emphasizes youth and denotes a kind of laissez-faire attitude that can be extremely sexy in the right hands. Accessorizing is of course a key part of displaying yourself. Adding a navel ring or stud would highlight the sexual aspect of the abdomen.

"Your butt is also an important consideration. Note how Esme and I have chosen clothes that make the essential shape of our asses clear. Esme's hipster pants cling to her high-riding butt so that the prominence of the lower curves is emphasized, while allowing an inch or two of her butt crack to show at the top. My pants, of course, outline the roundness of my ass while the thong of my g-string makes the symmetry of the cheeks obvious. In contrast, your ass sits a little low on your body, and therefore the emphasis of your outfits needs to be on your thin waist and the fine curve down to your hips rather than on the lower half of your butt.

"Finally, you must make a decision about your pubic hair. There are two points to be made here. First, as you have dyed your hair, there is a disconnect visually between the bright red above and the duller brown beneath. In such a situation, it is best not to draw too much attention to the difference. Second, you must always be aware of the dangers of the escaped pubic hair. America, on the whole, prefers its women to have less hair rather than more. In some situations, the shock value of the hairy mound is worth the downside. But, on the whole, it is preferable to keep it under control as much as possible. To that end, you must either give up certain opportunities, or remove the hair that is beyond the capacity of skimpy underwear to capture. As you know, Esme and I have removed all of our pubic hair. This is also not ideal, although it was required for our performance last night.

"Having seen all of this, I think we are ready to try another outfit. Please take off the dress."

"B-but, I'm not wearing..." Julianne stuttered.

"Nonsense, girl. No false modesty here. Off with it. We haven't got all day."

Julianne gaped at her, then seemed to come to a decision. She turned away from the front of the store and grasping the dress by its hem, smoothly pulled it over her head. She crossed her arms over her breasts, and looked over her shoulder at June. I longed for a camera to capture the wild innocence of that face, the hunted look of a fawn, at once fearful of and drawn to its doom. Her skin, flawlessly white, was set off by her copper red hair and the stark black of the g-string.

But the author of her dilemma was merciless, looking through the various items Esme had selected as if it were entirely normal for a young woman to change in the middle of the store. The saleslady was wringing her hands, looking worriedly at the door. Finally June handed another piece of clothing to Julianne.

This item of clothing was a peach-colored sheer dress that was slit up the sides clear to the ribcage. The front flap hung nearly straight down off of Julianne's breasts, while the rear flap clung gracefully to the sweep of her ass. Through the side slits, the lines of her waist and hips were elegantly displayed, just as June had predicted. Her perky tits likewise shone through, the finer pink of her nipples set off by the peach color of the outfit.

"This color would not work on someone with a tan; but it compliments your paleness. However, that g-string will not do. Please take it off."

As if under a spell, Julianne hooked her fingers under the thin strings of the black panties and peeled it down her legs. Her bush now jumped out to the watchers, its dark brown growth clearly at odds with the rest of her appearance. Although she had a bikini wax, the luxuriance of hair was too much.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. As I suspected. You will need to get rid of some of that. How can you hope to show off your pussy lips when they're hidden by all of that hair? Look at my pussy. Even though it's covered by my panties, you can easily discern the two labia, and the cleft in between. Had I hair on my vulva like you do, you would not be able to make out such detail, as it would mask the delicate contours."

A young couple entered the store, and stopped dead in their tracks. The woman's mouth dropped open, while the man seemed suddenly unsure of where to look. June called them over.

"Hi, we need an impartial opinion. Do you think my friend here needs to shave her bush or not?"

The couple looked at each other, and then the woman giggled. The man seemed relieved that his girlfriend was not mad at him, and he turned his attention to Julianne. She, poor thing, looked like she was about to faint, but her rock-hard nipples and a certain dewiness on the hair between her legs, betrayed her rising excitement.

"Well," the guy started, "as it is right now, it certainly has a kind of shock value. You're not likely to mistake the fact that she's got nothing on beneath her dress."

"Yeah," his girlfriend retorted, "but it lacks subtlety. There's no suspense. Everything's out there, screaming for your attention. She definitely needs to cut it back, and then wear neutral colored panties over it. That way, you could walk by her, and then have to take a second look in order to confirm her exhibition."

June nodded, pleased. She turned to our redheaded friend, whose knees were distinctly trembling from the excitement of the situation.

"Allright, Julianne. This dress won't do for the time being. We'll have to find something more creative." She started to go through the pile of clothes in Esme's arms.

"Here. Let's get you into these." She held out a blouse and skirt. Julianne took them, and started towards the dressing rooms.

"No, no, silly girl. We don't have the time to troupe back and forth. I thought I made that abundantly clear before."

Julianne still hesitated, her breath coming rapidly as she faced the possibility of being completely nude in front of a group of strangers.

"Look. You've already shown them just about everything you've got as it is," June pointed out. "What difference does it make if you've got this scrap of clothing over you or not?"

After a long pause, Julianne nodded imperceptibly, the attractive flush in her cheeks a delightful reminder of her arousal. She reached behind her to untie the dress, the action thrusting her tits proudly forward. All eyes were on her; the older woman, the college girl, the couple; even the saleswoman, nervously glancing at the door, couldn't stop herself from participating in the display.

With a sibillant slither, the tiny dress slipped off her shoulders and down her slim body to the floor. With a defiant glance at June, the girl stood before us as God created her, the natural beauty inherent in her humanity evident. She was not so perfect as to seem unattainable, no idol to be placed on a pedestal. Rather, her few imperfections, instead of appearing as flaws, added together to create an undeniably attractive whole.

I had never before been turned on by cone-shaped breasts, those tits that seem to sit high on the chest with angles that converge on the nipples, which seem the apotheoses of the entire structure. In her case, however, I found myself undeniably excited by the lighter-than-air feeling of Julianne's chest, the way they seemed to float off of her chest. Her nipples were begging to be suckled, the deeper pink being all that separated them from the mounds beneath. I was aroused, and I let it show through my pants, my length outlined beneath the tight zipper of my jeans.

"Brava!" murmured the older woman.

Almost reluctantly, Julianne accepted the clothing offered to her by June, and gracefully donned the skirt and blouse. The white blouse was not sheer, but the synthetic material clung to her curves precisely and lovingly. The neckline plunged downward to below her rib cage, where there was one precarious button. The inner slopes of her breasts were revealed, and the rest might as well have been for all the modesty provided by the provacative blouse. The bottom portion was cropped, her midriff bared.

The skirt, grey cotton, hung low on her hips, following June's advice, and indeed the sweet curve of her waist was emphasized, from the lower hem of the blouse to the waistband of the skirt below her hips. The top part of her ass with a hint of crack cheekily peeked out from the back. The skirt, like the blouse, clung shyly to the skin of her butt, and condescended to hang merely an inch or two below the junction of her legs.

In another woman, this outfit would have labeled her as a tart. But Julianne's evident innocence mitigated the harshness of such an epithet. In her case, she came off as a child trying on her mother's outrageous clothes. She had a sexiness born of unintentional display rather than of conscious lewdness.

"We'll take these, if you please," June told the saleslady. "Now, girl, we've got to go take care of that bush you've got down there."

*****

The salon that June and Esme took us to was unlike any I had ever heard of. The entryway was discreet, much like the lingerie boutique and the tattoo parlor June and I had visited earlier in the week. Upstairs, the salon was housed in one enormous loft, with eight spacious workspaces, separated by movable walls. The room was airy and well-lit, with two walls made up of floor to ceiling windows, those immense windows that you can only find in SoHo lofts. The temperature was, I noticed, slightly warmer than one is accustomed to in New York establishments in the summertime. The sounds of conversation, scissors, and blow-dryers lent a cheerful atmosphere to the space. A tiny woman in her twenties with spiky hair greeted us at the door. She led us to the waiting area, and informed us that it would be only a short wait until "an associate" could help us.

Julianne self-consciously crossed her legs as she sat down. Her skirt rode up on her thighs, coming perilously close to uncovering her mound. With a blush, she pushed the cloth of the skirt between her legs. June and Esme busied themselves glancing through magazines. I looked around some more.

The workspaces were arrayed around the sides of the room, and could be blocked off with curtains, I saw. The hair care professionals were all handsome young men, with clean-cut looks. Each was dressed identically, in a black sleeveless t-shirt and loose black pants. None wore shoes. The clientele were all very high-class women, dressed impeccably in Park Avenue clothing. The clean, heated smell of the salon was soothing, and I could see that some of the customers were, in fact, dozing during their extended appointments.

In a few minutes, a young man, indistinguishable from the other stylists, walked over to us.

"Hello, my name is Carlo and I'll be helping you folks this morning. Who is the customer?"

June looked up languorously and calmly took inventory of the boy's physique. He, apparently used to such treatment stood at ease before her inspection. He was well put-together, with defined muscles and slim hips.

"Well, Carlo, our customer today is Julianne, here. But first, if I might have a word in private with you?"

She stood up and led Carlo by the arm some feet away. A conversation in murmurs ensued, during which Julianne's blush only intensified. I could hardly wait to find out what my devilish daughter had in store. In a few seconds, they returned.

"Madam, if you will follow me?"

The nearest workspace was available, and it was here that Carlo led Julianne. We could hear everything they were saying.

"I understand that you wish to have your intimate areas clean of hair. Is that correct?"

"Yes," murmured Julianne, humiliated to the very roots of her hair.

"Very good, madam. I will give you a few moments to disrobe and make yourself comfortable in the chair, here. I will pull the curtains to give you privacy."

Carlo pulled the curtains across the open side of the area, and stood outside for a minute or two before reentering.

"Now, madam," we could hear from inside the curtained workspace, "we will just adjust the chair so you are lying flat, just so. I have found that women often enjoy a warm towel over their face during such appointments. It is both soothing and relaxing. Would you like such a treatment? Excellent. I will be back in just a second."

Carlo stepped out once more, and pulled the curtain closed behind him. He stepped across the room, disappearing for a minute or two. I could hardly imagine Julianne's state of mind as she lay half-naked in a public salon, the sounds and smells continually reminding her how exposed she was despite the semi-privacy of the curtains.

When Carlo returned however, he made the situation even more remarkable, unknown to Julianne. For when he stepped through the curtain and turned to pull it behind him, he pulled it all the way to the other side, leaving the space once more open to our eyes. There lay Julianne, with a towel over her face, nude from her belly to her shoes. Even more astonishing, Carlo then proceeded to silently let his trousers slip to the floor. He stepped out of them, his cock now dangling in the open air. Like me, his cock and balls were carefully shaved and circumcised, giving his groin a clean and uniform appearance.

"Now, madam, I will adjust the chair, so." He turned the chair so that Julianne was sideways to us, and then with a flick of a lever, the part supporting her legs split apart so that Carlo could move between them.

"First, I will trim the hair," he went on, and stepped up between her legs. He grasped a tuft of her pubic hair and started to trim it back to stubble with a pair of nail scissors. June, Esme, and I watched intently as he worked with extreme care. It was clear that his gentle touch had its effect on Julianne, who began to relax under his ministrations. During this time, he made every effort to avoid skin contact. His face was close to Julianne's crotch, and his breath warmly caressed her vulva.

"Now, I will apply cream to soften the stubble." He opened a cabinet door and got a bottle of cream which had been warmed for the purpose of intimate contact. He squirted a healthy dollop onto his fingers and began to massage it into the hair surrounding Julianne's sex. Now we could hear gentle moans coming from the overheated girl as Carlo's knowing fingers moved in gentle circles. We could see his hand dip between her legs, causing her to arch her pelvis up at him. His fingers continued downward, evidently passing over her labia and between her ass cheeks. At this point, I noticed that his cock was beginning to lengthen, blood rushing in to extend it.

He stepped back from the table, and busied himself with cleaning some scissors and combs he had been using that morning. Julianne, still in a state of blissful ignorance of her predicament, lay on the table, her legs spread, relaxed, yet aroused. At this point, some of the other stylists noticed the Julianne's unintentional exhibition. Without missing a beat, they spun their chairs to show their clients the show. If these wealthy women were shocked by what they saw, they hid it well. One woman's eyes widened; another smiled privately, as if recalling a similar experience.

After a few minutes of letting the cream work, Carlo stepped back over to the chair. At this point, his cock had hardened to its full stiffness. I estimated that it stood about eight inches upward, the staff tapering upward to the crown which flared outward in a delightful shade of deep pink. His balls swayed lightly as he walked, and the rod bounced in time. However, he still avoided contact with our friend.

"Now I will begin to shave the stubble." With graceful long strokes, he drew a straight-edge razor across Julianne's mons, the stubble melting under the onslaught of the blade like butter under a heated knife. With practiced ease, he shaped the remaining hair into a thin line in the midline. He wiped the excess cream off of her lower belly and stood back to survey his handiwork.

"I must now move on to the labia, madam. Please try to keep perfectly still for this part." With that he reached down and pulled her lips to one side, taut. Julianne was in an obvious struggle between his instructions and her mounting arousal. Her breasts were moving up and down rapidly in time with her breathing. But Carlo was a professional, and his movements were precise. In very little time he had shaved one side and had moved to the other. He was clearly well aware of her state, and was proceeding as quickly as safety would allow.

As he shifted to the other side of her labia, I saw him glide a finger into her depths. This produced a stiffening on Julianne's part, and she pushed her pelvis out at his finger, blindly attempting to impale herself further. But Carlo was still playing the role of the unknowing stimulator, and he withdrew his finger, apologizing for the "accidental contact."

Everybody's rapt gaze was locked on the pair of half-nude bodies. Julianne's hard nipples were practically ripping through the soft white cloth of her blouse, while Carlo's erection was visibly throbbing, one or two drops of pre-cum leaking from the top. In a second, he had finished shaving her labia.

"Now, madam, if you would just pull your legs up to your chest, I can shave around your anus." His voice was shaking, and he must have been exercising all of his will power not to simply thrust forward with his cock and bury himself to the deepest depths of Julianne's pussy.

Julianne, however, did not hesitate one second. With smooth power, she grasped her legs behind the knees and pulled them upward, each knee to the side of her breasts. The action lifted her ass off of the table, and her spread legs bared her entire pussy and asshole to the view of all in the room. It was a gorgeous sight to behold, the wanton display, even though the actor had no idea of how lewd she was being. Carlo had to take a second to drink in the perfect view he had been granted. His cock twitched, a little stream of pre-cum escaping and trickling down the shaft of his angrily distended shaft.

The labia were wide open, split out like petals. The inner lips likewise were engorged and spread. The deeper pink of the inner pussy winked in time with Julianne's breaths. Beneath the wet slit, her light brown anus pulsed in synchrony as well. Beside me, Esme was leaning forward, completely lost in the action, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open. June affected dispassion, but her nipples were hard as ever, their length obvious under the sheer top. Similarly, the other watchers were entirely engaged, their eyes locked on our friend's exposed privates.

Carlo took a deep breath, and stepping forward, massaged the cream on Julianne's perineum. With widening strokes, he spread the soothing lotion across her buttocks. Then, with tightening circles, he approached her anus until he was rubbing one finger of his left hand around and around her sensitive ring. The muscles seemed to relax all of a sudden, and his finger slipped one knuckle deep into the tiny hole.